


Remembering

by Pie_pecans_and_parrots



Series: How We Love In The Shadows [4]
Category: NCT (Band), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shadow World Setting (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Boyfriends, Dialogue Light, First Love, Idris (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Parabatai Bond, Teen Romance, shadowhunter!jaemin, shadowhunter!jeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 23:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17632073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pie_pecans_and_parrots/pseuds/Pie_pecans_and_parrots
Summary: Entreat me not to leave thee,Or return from following after thee—For whither thou goest, I will go,And where thou lodgest, I will lodge.





	Remembering

Jaemin could still remember when he had first met Jeno.

He’d come to the Institute from his family manor in Idris. The Lee family had always had a prominent presence in the Shadowhunter world – seats on the Council, riches beyond measure, and guarantees of the best guest bedrooms whenever they visited Institutes. Like his mother, Jeno had dark irises, and as he later came to find out – her pretty eye-smile that took over his whole face. Like his father, he already had a solemness in his gaze, a haughtiness in his stance, a cold crisp to his words when he spoke.

Jaemin – an orphan with no real knowledge of Shadowhunter hierarchy, raised by the warmth of his own Institute – had challenged the other boy to a duel when he had rudely declined to play with him. Jaemin thought that that had to have been the first time Jeno had lost anything in his life. The way his eyes had gotten round and wide as he regarded the blood from his nose, and his subsequent wailing for his mother told Jaemin that Jeno had never been punched in the face before, and probably the first time he hadn’t gotten his way.

Jaemin had been told to avoid Jeno from then – and by the serious look in Minho’s eyes as he had scolded Jaemin – he had gotten a grasp of just how high-and-mighty the family was.

The second time Jeno had visited the Institute, Jaemin had stayed out of sight, his six-year-old self very aware of the notion of punishment now, Shadowhunter discipline beginning to take hold of him.

He was surprised to find the other boy waiting in his bedroom for him – a determined look on his face, and a steel to his voice when he had asked Jaemin for a re-match.

Jaemin remembered the thrill of sneaking through the dark corridors, trying not to giggle at the excitement of it all – Jeno’s hand finding his as they were almost caught by Taeil – the elder Shadowhunter on his way back from a mission. He remembered the animated shine in Jeno’s eyes as they muffled their laughter into each other’s palms.

He remembered how, once they had actually made it to the training rooms, they had sat down and talked instead. How Jeno had described the shimmering city of Alicante – and how jealousy had taken root in his chest, not for the beauty of the place, but for the longing of Jeno’s family. He remembered how Jeno’s eyes had glistened with tears, as haltingly, he had told the other boy about his own family – and how he had watched them die. He remembered Jeno swearing – with a resolute look on his face – that he could be part of his family now.

When they were eight, Jaemin had taken Jeno to the gardens, and they had climbed the tallest tree in the place. That was when Jaemin had found out about Jeno’s fear of heights – and his bravery. He remembered that Jeno hadn’t said a word, lips pressed tightly together, face white and hands trembling as he hauled himself up the tree after Jaemin. When he had fallen – he hadn’t even screamed, just landed heavily on the ground. Jaemin had been more afraid of the blood spreading from Jeno’s side than the odd angle of his arm. It had only been a scratch, but Jaemin couldn’t remember ever being more afraid. He had screamed himself, calling Jeno’s parents and about half the Institute. Jaemin hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye, because Jeno’s parents had returned to Idris with their son soon after.

Jaemin didn’t see Jeno for years after that.

Inside, he couldn’t help but blame himself for that – because he had asked Jeno to climb with him, he didn’t go behind Jeno, didn’t catch him in time.

The next time he saw Jeno – it was when they were sixteen, and Jaemin was in Idris for the first time. He remembered seeing Jeno surrounded by the intense cold splendour of the place and thinking that out of everything – he was the most beautiful.

Jeno was different in Idris – and Jaemin had thought, at first, that it was because of him, because of the tree incident all those years ago. But no – it was Jeno’s family. Jaemin remembered the stiffness of the family dinner he attended, the chilly manners and halls, the lack of smiles – the lack of  _Jeno’s_  smile.

When they turned seventeen, Jeno came out to his family.

When they turned seventeen, Jeno was cast out of his family.

A week before they turned eighteen, Jaemin remembers facing Jeno within the rings of flame, the gold and red hues turning Jeno into this miracle of light. Jaemin remembers the faint pain of the heat on his skin, and the cut across his palm, he remembers how it faded when Jeno took his hand – their blood smearing together in uniform scarlet.

“ _Entreat me not to leave thee,_

_ Or return from following after thee— _

_ For whither thou goest, I will go, _

_ And where thou lodgest, I will lodge. _

_ Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. _

_ Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried. _

_ The Angel do so to me, and more also, _

_ If aught but death part thee and me.” _

The words are still so familiar to him, even after all this time. He’s only ever said them once, yet he could hear them clear as day.

Jeno muttered something, and Jaemin turned to him.

His friend, his Parabatai, his heart, looked young in his sleep. Jeno had his hand flung over his face, the rune that linked them together stark against his skin. Jaemin gently tugged on his fingers, coaxing his hand down, and linking them together, intertwining his fingers with Jeno. At this, Jeno blinked awake, eyes focussing blearily first on their linked hands, and then on Jaemin’s face.

“What’re you doing?” he asked sleepily, yawning widely. Jaemin felt his heart constrict slightly as Jeno turned further into him, breath warming his neck.

“Remembering.” Jaemin responded simply, and as Jeno’s breathing evened out again, he closed his eyes.


End file.
